


"Last Night I Dreamt..."

by Never_Give_In



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Trailer, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Emotional Hurt, Everything Hurts, F/M, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I'm Sorry, Iron Man 1, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Endgame, Precious Peter Parker, Sad Ending, Sorry Not Sorry, Spoilers, Tags Contain Spoilers, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Time Travel, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 14:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18470401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Never_Give_In/pseuds/Never_Give_In
Summary: "...𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭..."---𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮.





	"Last Night I Dreamt..."

**Author's Note:**

> I took some major liberties with this fic. I read the idea online and ran with it, but I desperately wanted to get it published before Endgame despite the fact that there is no way this story will end up canon in any shape or form.  
> Also, I wrote and finalized this back in like January, before the second Endgame trailer was released so this is all based off theories from the first trailer ONLY.  
> That said, please enjoy and don't kill me.  
> (also all translations are at the end, brought to you by Google Translate)

They’d done it.

 

They’d actually done it.

 

Tony’s left hand is shaking from the anxiety, and his nano tech suit is practically nonexistent, but against all odds they had _fucking done it._

 

After everything they went through, the Avengers finally came out on top with Thanos nothing but a dreaded nightmare in the dark recesses of everyone’s mind. Of course the fight wasn’t won without loss; Steve had elected to stay with Peggy when they had snatched the Tesseract, and Nebula had perished as a result of collecting the Orb. But neither had hesitated in their actions, and every other Avenger survived the trip through time, back to their present year of 2020, where nothing seemed amiss.

 

With the exception of Cap’s erasure from current news and government records, nothing had changed.

 

The nine heroes successfully exit the Quantum Realm a lot worse for wear to a room in the Compound unchanged from how they’d left it. Pepper stands there, waiting, just like when they’d left, except for one key difference.

 

Morgan is standing beside her, clutching her mother’s hand tightly in her tiny toddler grip. Morgan’s eyes widen once they land on her dad, and Tony rushes forward, hugging his daughter and forcing back tears. He glances up to meet Pepper’s gaze and sends a watery grin up at her as he stands, Morgan held in one arm. Pepper’s smiling, and her eyes leak tears when Tony finally embraces her, Morgan cuddled between them, after what had felt like years apart.

 

Fury and Hill are at the Compound as well, both of whom welcome Carol back openly- the former gruffly passing what looks like a couple hundred dollars to the heroine. To Clint’s substantial relief, Fury informs him that Laura and their three kids are safe, anxiously awaiting his return in another area of the Compound. Scott rushes off for a phone after that bit of news, probably to try and reach his girlfriend and daughter in San Francisco.

 

After that, the original Avengers minus Steve, plus Rhodey and Rocket, collectively agree to send out a message to the world at large. The contents are left up to Bruce, Nat, Rhodey, and Fury.

 

Rocket’s sitting atop Thor’s shoulder, in a way that Tony slowly became used in the two years following the Snap. The tiny mammal is giving him an almost desperate look, one fraught with an anxiety that Tony only now recognizes: it’s the same pressing weight and guilt that razed his subconscious for the past two years, and now reared its ugly head as his thoughts became clearer.

 

Peter.

 

Tony’s blood rushes thunderously in his ears, and he nods at Rocket who begins chattering to Thor while the god hastily leaves the room. Pepper’s looking at him with thinly veiled concern but doesn’t question him, just kisses his lips gently and squeezes his hand, a simple command falling from her lips.

 

“Come home safe, Tony.”

 

He nods, swallows his dread, then hugs Morgan once more- Tony doesn’t want to leave her again, doesn’t want to follow in Howard’s missteps of neglect.

 

“You’ll be back,” Morgan whispers as she hugs him. “Right, Daddy?”

 

Tony smiles, and pulls out of the embrace. His hand teases her hair playfully but the gesture seems much too sad.

 

“‘Course I will, _bambina,_ ” Tony responds, cradling her face. He kisses her forehead before standing back up. “I will always come back to you.”

 

Then, they’re off to Titan.

 

\---

 

The way Rocket figures, time corrected itself as they forcibly changed it, so while they did prevent the Infinity Gauntlet from ever coming to fruition, Thanos’ war still occurred. The events leading to the war and the circumstances surrounding it were altered of course, but Strange and Peter both end up in space either way- presumably alive.

 

“So how do the three of us and the rest of the Avengers fit into the picture?” Tony muses, gazing at the rainbow light flowing past the ship. “Because unless we’re dealing with a paradox, none of us were actually _here_ for the fight.”

 

Rocket snorts at the notion and sets the _Benatar_ for auto-pilot to turn and look at Tony. “Like I said, everything still happened. The war still happened the same way, given a little later in the timeline, and with just one key difference: the stones are history. ‘Course whatever Thanos’ goal was probably changed due to that, but that’s in the past now. Asshole’s dead, and everyone came out alive, so ideally you just got knocked out of the fight early on and the kid ended up on Titan anyway. Same with the wizard and my family.”

 

Tony hums and accepts the explanation, startling only briefly when Thor appears by his side.

 

“The Spider-man sounds like a valiant ally, Stark,” The god says and places a heavy yet friendly hand on Tony’s shoulder. “If he’s anything like his father, he will become a hero worthy of Valhalla.”

 

Two years ago, if Thor or anyone else had made the presumption of Peter being his son, Tony would have probably flipped them off or given a hearty laugh followed by a snarky comment. Now, two years after he was cursed to watch Peter disintegrate in his very arms and hear his dying words, Tony had somehow done enough in his life to be given a beautiful daughter. Morgan had taught him how to love, and Tony came to realize just how important Peter was- _is_ to his life.

 

Morgan deserves a big brother like Peter.

 

Tony smiles at Thor. “Yeah,” he sighs and his anxiety returns when the _Benatar_ drops out of hyperspace (or whatever Rocket calls it). “He’s going to be such a good big brother. Or, I guess he already is… in this time.”

 

“If you two are done bonding and shit, we’ve reached Titan.” Rocket calls out to them. Thor and Tony share a look of concern before walking to where Rocket is flicking switches and tapping the screen in front of him. “We should touch down in about five minutes, so get your shit together before we hit the surface, Stark.”

 

\---

 

The time between breaching the atmosphere and landing on Titan’s surface seems much longer than five minutes.

 

Tony’s left hand is shaking once more, his eyes unmoving from the closed exit of the ship. Rocket and Thor stand on either side of him, Rocket visibly just as fraught with nerves as Tony is.

 

“Ready?” The raccoon asks quietly, glancing up at Tony with a softness he hasn’t seen since after the Snap.

 

“As I’ll ever be,” Tony replies and takes in a deep breath.

 

Rocket swipes the code on the screen, and the bay doors of the ship open with a hydraulic whine, welcoming the heroes to the rust colored, dystopian wasteland that is Titan. Dust swirls in the wind and Tony’s chest seizes as his heart skips a beat, the memory arriving unbidden to the forefront of his mind.

 

_Mr. Stark I don’t feel so good._

 

The dread.

 

_I don’t wanna go._

 

The plea.

 

_Sir, please! I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go!_

 

The realization.

 

_I’m sorry._

 

The apology.

 

“Stark!”

 

Tony is brought harshly back to reality by Thor’s concerned shout. The god is eyeing him with thinly veiled worry, an emotion that Tony thinks doesn’t quite belong on his face.

 

“I’m fine,” Tony lies, shrugging the hand off his shoulder. “Come on, we’ve got a family that needs its raccoon back.”

 

“Not a raccoon!” Rocket protests, but it’s half-hearted. It’s painfully obvious how much he wants to get a move on.

 

“The rabbit is correct,” Thor interjects and walks down the ship’s ramp. “Let us find your son, Stark. And the Guardians.”

 

The three don’t have to walk far before Tony begins to recognize some of the derelict scenery against the deserted landscape. Not too long afterwards, they happen upon Nebula’s crashed Sakaaran vessel and Tony immediately recognizes the nearby rock formation as the one Strange had sat upon; the one where he and the Mad Titan had had a pleasant chat.

 

“Over here.”

 

Thor and Rocket trail after Tony, the billionaire stumbling over his own feet to reach the place where his son had crumbled to ash in his arms. The place where he had failed.

 

They spot Strange first.

 

The wizard is meditating slightly above the dusty ground, appearing at ease with the Time Stone securely around his neck- it was the only stone they hadn’t needed to collect.

 

“You survived the endgame I see.” Strange opens his eyes and lands on his own feet, a surprisingly light smile teasing his lips. “Congratulations.”

 

“Yeah, it only took half the universe dying,” Tony retorts, bitter toward the man who had seemingly known what victory would cost them. “Where’re everyone else?”

 

Strange gestures over his shoulder. “The Guardians are just over there, doing who knows what.” Rocket rushes over before the wizard can finish his words, elation rolling off the creature in waves as Quill, Mantis, Drax, and Groot greet him like no time had passed. “And Peter-”

 

_“Mr. Stark?”_

 

Tony turns, and he feels almost nauseous from the wave of déjà vu that passes over him as his eyes land on the teen just a few feet away. Peter’s still in his Iron Spider suit with the mask retracted, stumbling over the rocky surface of Titan, just like he always did in Tony’s nightmares. That’s nearly what Tony thinks this is for a moment, his heart racing at the notion of the surreal scene, but Peter’s expression is different.

 

The kid’s whole. There are no faint wisps of dust flaking off his arms, and his suit isn’t battle-worn; isn’t covered in scrapes and dents from being strangled and tossed around by an alien madman. But best of all, Peter Parker is smiling.

 

His face isn’t twisted in pain, his eyes aren’t wide with terror and confusion, and his mouth isn’t spouting those haunting final words.

 

Instead, the moment Peter realizes that it’s _really_ Tony Stark looking back at him, the kid’s face lights up like a Christmas tree and his smile becomes contagious as his eyes shine with uncontainable joy.

 

“Oh my god, Tony!”

 

It’s the first time the kid has ever called him that, but Tony can’t even bring himself to care. He rushes forward to meet Peter halfway and pauses to take in the teen, making sure he’s well and truly whole. Sure, Peter looks a bit taller and maybe a bit more sturdy than Tony remembers, but it’s also been two years. This isn’t the sixteen year old Tony held as he died- this is an eighteen year old hero who Tony can now hold because he _survived._

 

And if that gets Tony choked up, Peter doesn’t have to know.

 

Tony grabs Peter in a hard embrace, wrapping the kid in his arms as if to shelter him from the harsh unfairness of the universe. Peter melts in his arms without hesitation, reciprocating the hug with equal strength.

 

 _“This one’s a hug,”_ Tony whispers, holding his son tight and fighting against the tears pulling at his eyes.

 

 _“Dad…”_ Peter whines, and _holy shit_ if that isn’t everything Tony had been missing for the past two years.

 

Of course, even at eighteen, Peter is still awkward as hell and stumbles back once he realizes what he had said.

 

“M-mr. Stark I-”

 

Tony just shakes his head and pulls the kid back into his embrace. Peter’s stiff in his arms, his anxiety palpable. “Don’t sweat it, Pete,” Tony whispers, pulling back to smile joyfully at the teen. “It’s been a long time coming, don’t you think?”

 

Peter relaxes fully and returns the smile before initiating the third hug of the past four minutes, but Tony doesn’t mind in the slightest because he can finally hold his son again.

 

“Thanks, Dad,” Peter says softly, his grin clear in his voice.

 

“Anything for you, son,” Tony replies.

 

-

 

-

 

-

 

Then Tony wakes up.

 

His head is swimmy, and there’s an ache in his chest, but despite both he sits up and looks around. His surroundings are unfamiliar, but hauntingly recognized by his subconscious.

 

It’s a feeling that terrifies Tony and sets him on edge.

 

He looks around, confused as to where Peter is and why he isn’t on Titan. Nothing appears to beg any recognition: there’s a few tables strewn about, a couple dozen boxes of miscellaneous materials, and…

 

“Oh, god.”

 

To his far right, Tony spies a rusted jig, and being supported by it is a huge, grey, metal suit. The Mark 1. The very same suit he had used just over a decade ago to escape the Ten Rings.

 

Thinking this must be some kind of nightmare or hallucination, Tony shakily rises to his feet and stands, steadying his legs. As far as he can tell, no one else is here. Yinsen, the dream form of his friend in any case, is absent.

 

“This _cannot_ be happening.”

 

Tony limps (for a reason he can’t discern, his leg is injured- or, at least, it _feels_ like it is) over to the jig to investigate the suit closer. Normally, when he has these dreams, the suit is like it was before he escaped or was in the process of being built. But now, it’s in pieces.

 

Still held up by the jig, but in pieces nonetheless. The chest plate is wrought with bullet holes, and the armor for the arms lay beyond repair while the leg armor is nonexistent. Most importantly, the helmet is missing.

 

“What is this,” Tony mutters, shaking his head and turning away from the jig. “Where-”

“ستارک! په ځمکه کې لاړ شئ!”

 

Tony’s blood turns to ice in his veins, his instincts driving him to drop to the ground but his eyes automatically drift to the large metal door a few feet away.

 

The door opens not but a moment later, and a handful of men enter, wielding guns that they point unflinchingly at Tony as they surround him. Then another man enters, one Tony unfortunately remembers without fault.

 

“Raza,” he breathes out shakily. “I thought you were dead.”

 

Raza smirks without humor, and crouches in front of Tony. He looks just as Tony remembers, but the overwhelming burn on the right of his face is missing.

 

“You must have hit your head harder than we thought, Stark,” Raza states in his smug, accented voice. “Of course, perhaps the shock of losing a friend can touch even the great Tony Stark.”

 

“Yinsen?” Tony questions, confusion plain in his tone.

 

“Died a week ago attempting to help you escape,” Raza informs him indifferently. “My men dumped his body then dismantled your suit soon after. Nothing to keep you from continuing to build my arsenal now, hm?”

 

Tony’s psyche just about shatters right then and there, but the revelation is met with complete and utter disbelief.

 

“How long have I been here?” Tony asks, his voice barely above a whisper. At Raza’s puzzled look, Tony repeats his question, only louder. _“How long have you kept me here?”_

 

“Four years,” Raza says and stands up. “The United States and your company gave up on you long ago, Stark. No one is coming for you- you might as well keep yourself useful.” Raza walks away, but throws a command to his men as they all leave. “ډاډ ترلاسه کړئ چې هغه دا کوي - موږ نور غلطی نه شو کولی.”

 

Tony’s left alone, kneeling on the dirt floor of the cave, his body limp with horror as his breaths turn into short, panicked gasps of hysteria.

 

_The past twelve years were all just a dream._

 

The Avengers.

 

S.H.I.E.L.D

 

H.Y.D.R.A

 

Sokovia.

 

The Accords.

 

_Happy._

 

_Rhodey._

 

_Pepper._

 

_The Snap._

 

_Morgan._

 

**_Peter._ **

 

“Oh, god.” Tony murmurs again, pressing his hands to either side of his head. His entire life, everything he went through as Iron Man and as a father, _wasn’t real._ Tony’s eyes leak tears that are full of agony, pain, and complete and utter despair as the revelation sinks in against his own will. His breath shortens as sobs rack his body, and Tony couldn’t give less of a damn whether or not the Ten Rings soldiers see him. There’s a panic present in his head, one that makes his damned left arm shake again, despite the trauma behind it not having been real.

 

His mind dreamt an entire other reality and let him live it without end or fail- only to make him wake up once everything became corrected. It felt like some sort of sick and twisted joke, or maybe a horribly orchestrated revenge scheme.

 

But it isn’t.

 

Tony is alone, mentally scarred, crying and longing for the life he had; the life Tony believes to have been much too good for someone like himself but he got despite it all.

 

Tony Stark finally selected the winning hand of Fate: amazing teammates and friends, a loving wife, a beautiful daughter, and a ridiculous but perfectly imperfect son.

 

And yet, it _did_ end up being much too perfect.

 

In his end is his beginning, and Tony is just as broken as when he started, left with no one to pick up the pieces.

 

_Alone, despondent, and pensive in a cave guarded by Afghan terrorists with nothing but his wit and will to keep him going._

 

_How ‘bout that?_

**Author's Note:**

> bambina- Italian "baby girl"  
> ستارک! په ځمکه کې لاړ شئ!- Pashto "Stark! Get on the ground!"  
> ډاډ ترلاسه کړئ چې هغه دا کوي - موږ نور غلطی نه شو کولی.- Pashto "Make sure he does that - we can not make an error."
> 
> \---
> 
> So... hope bout that? Heh, sorry guys. I really just found myself intrigued by this idea and having never found another fic like it, I had to do it. But anywho, I hope y'all enjoyed. who knows? Maybe I'll write a sequel someday. Would y'all like that?
> 
> Come scream at me in the comments.


End file.
